


A Flutter of Hope

by a_steady_wish



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-Episode: s09e20 The Truth (Part 2), Sex in a Car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 13:51:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10855317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_steady_wish/pseuds/a_steady_wish
Summary: His soft hand on her shoulder seemed to physically ease her pain. Scully sighed and relaxed into his touch. She loved Mulder so much – this brilliant, impossible man of hers – that it hurt, and also healed.





	A Flutter of Hope

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars. – Kahlil Gibran

_____________________________

They drove for fourteen hours that first stretch: through the stifling afternoon sun; over dinner time; across dusk; and into the dark, raw night. Dana Scully stared out the window for the first several hours, watching the New Mexico landscape shift in the changing light as they sailed along a lonely highway. Every once in a while she would see, in the distance, a home with windows gently lit, and assume that families – regular people – were settling down for dinner or to watch the evening news. It was a life that she and Mulder would likely never have. They never had, really; but it seemed especially impossible now, with him a wanted felon and her, an accessory to the crime. Their old lives seemed normal compared to this new reality. Maybe William would have normalcy. Playing in the yard until dusk and then running in for family supper at six. His mother would go with him on field trips; his father would play catch with him in the yard. He would have Christmases and birthdays in a home decorated with twinkling lights and music and gifts and family members laughing and holding him. He would thrive.

A sudden flash image of his blue baby eyes gazing up at her trustingly assaulted Scully’s senses and her chest constricted. She reached over and squeezed Mulder’s hand.

“Okay?” he asked gently.

Scully nodded.

Fox Mulder: once the strongest, most driven, most determined person Scully had ever met in her life, now looked forward with sorrowful eyes and a bony frame. His cheeks were gaunt from months on the run and then in prison, and life was not going to get easier for him – for them – in the months and years to come. As she had lost hope, so had he; the two of them, for years side by side as they battled the bad guys, were now paired in despondency.

He watched the road, endless and unsympathetic before them, leaving his hand on hers. The car tires whirred underneath them, tickling the base of her spine.

“I’m starving,” he spoke finally, an apology edging his voice.

“I think there’s junk food in the trunk,” she replied.

Mulder pulled over slowly into the gravel on the side of the highway and popped the trunk. “If there’s an ice tea in that trunk…” he joked.

“Doesn’t matter, you’re stuck with me either way,” Scully quipped back. She almost smiled, for the first time in days – maybe weeks.

Mulder slid back into his seat with the bounty: two cans of Diet Coke and an unopened bag of cookies. Scully shook her head with disgust. “I’m sorry,” she grumbled, “this is all I keep around in case we’re ever stranded somewhere.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Mulder drawled out, ripping open the bag and handing it to her before easing the car back onto the road.

They drove in silence for another long while. Scully’s eyes traveled to the back seat and she couldn’t help but imagine William there, chubby legs kicking in his car seat. They couldn’t have cared for him, not like this. They had run without time to pick up supplies, and the baby would have been stuck in his seat for many hours without food or a diaper change. They were likely going to sleep in this car for the first couple of nights, or tonight at the very least, until they had the perception of safety. They needed to be far away enough from DC to check into a motel, using cash and fake ID’s; and then day after day would be the same. That was no life for a baby.

Scully knew all of this, had told herself the same facts again and again over the past few hours, but still smiled wistfully at the idea of William’s little baby noises coming from the back seat.

She missed his little noises. Sometimes, after she’d given him up, she would wake at night thinking she’d heard him in his crib. Once, in a daze of half-sleep, she had stumbled into his room to soothe him, only to come face to face with his empty crib, blanket folded neatly the way she had done it for the last time, after he’d gone.

She’d had to run to the bathroom to vomit then.

Mulder sensed what she was feeling and reached for her shoulder. He’d always had such a knack for that – for seeing her, feeling her, sensing her, in his periphery.

“I know, Scully.” He glanced her way, out of the corner of his eye, concern etched on his face. He had aged, this past year. Scully was certain that she had, too. “But it’s for the best. He couldn’t… we couldn’t take him with us. Not like this.”

His soft hand on her shoulder seemed to physically ease her pain. Scully sighed and relaxed into his touch. She loved Mulder so much – this brilliant, impossible man of hers – that it hurt, and also healed. Scully took his hand and kissed the top of it; he laid it on her thigh.

“I’m going to drive all night,” Mulder told her. “You should get some rest.”

Scully nodded, running one hand over the side of his face. She agreed, silently; she hadn’t properly slept in many nights. Neither had Mulder, but he seemed wired on adrenaline and keen on driving. She closed her eyes, and felt the thrumming of the car over a smooth road settle her exhausted body into sleep. Slowly, but surely, she drifted off.

———————————————–

When Scully awoke, the car was slowing down in front of an old gas station that, except for a light in a small window, looked abandoned. The tires bumped over loose gravel as Mulder eased it up to a gas pump. It was just before dawn, and the sky was grey with a soft purple hue that made the dark roads seem to glisten. Mulder hopped out and stretched before beginning to fill the tank, and Scully looked around warily, easing her stiff body out of the car. She motioned to him that she was going inside, and he nodded, keeping his head down and discretely watching her walk away.

In the store, Scully used the washroom and then grabbed some bottles of water, wrapped sandwiches, and a bag of chips before heading towards the cashier. He was an older man with short, white hair and eyes that looked clouded, unfocused. As he tried to make small talk, Scully glanced quickly at the newspapers before her, scanning the front pages for any mention of Mulder or herself. None – she took a breath of relief. They had today, then, before store clerks and motel managers might know who they were and why they ran.

“You and your husband out early this mornin’,” the cashier said as he rang in her items.

Scully nodded and gave him a slight smile, trying to be polite without encouraging him to continue.

“Goin’ on a trip?” he asked.

Scully shook her head, her nails clicking against the counter as she watched Mulder approach the store front.

Mulder strolled in, appearing casual despite the circumstances – that was another thing he was good at. She cursed her tense shoulders and furrowed brow; she did not hide stress well.

“Good you gassed up now, prices are ‘spected to go up later this mornin’,” the man said, almost as if to himself, not even looking up at Scully as he tapped buttons on his ancient cash register.

“That’s nice,” Scully said, and was surprised at the scratchiness of her own voice. She turned away from him, embarrassed, clearing her throat.

She wondered briefly how she would live this new life of theirs, having only Mulder to talk to, having no structured work to do, having no Sunday brunches with her mother or phone calls with her old friend Ellen or being able to just go to the mall or go for a walk or go to the gym because she felt like it.

Mulder was worth it, certainly; he was her life. Together they had stood against great forces of darkness and come out with their lives – if nothing else. They were on the right side of this, morally, and there was still work to be done. But could they build a life together like this, together in dual confinement?

Mulder emerged, loping around the three aisles of the small store quickly on his long legs. He picked up a Ginger Ale and a box of condoms, glancing cheekily in her direction, causing her heart rate to pick up slightly, and then paid for both of their purchases and the gas while the old man chattered on about the heat spell.

As they walked back to the car, Mulder took Scully’s hand and swiped his thumb against her skin. He had been to hell and back, and it showed in his taught skin and hair graying at the temples. Despite his own trauma, his own fear, his own trepidation about what they would do today and tomorrow and the day after that, he was worried for her. He’d been so worried about her throughout the trial and his escape that many nights he couldn’t sleep, and would lay awake wondering what he could do to protect her. Now, in the desolate parking lot against a slowly warming sky and a long, black stretch of road, his eyes found hers and stayed there.

Are you really okay? His eyes asked her.

Do you trust me?

Do you love me enough for this?

Will this life be enough for you – for us?

And with her own stoic expression, and a gentle squeeze of his hand, she tried to reassure him, though she didn’t really believe it. Everything had changed so quickly, since his return from his quest and his subsequent trial and indictment. When the team broke him out of prison, she’d had only minutes to grab the fake ID’s they’d put aside a year earlier, empty out the safe of cash, and drive to get him. There had been no time for introspection or the making of sound decisions; Mulder would have either died in that prison or she would help to set him free. There hadn’t been a choice.

They neared the car, their footsteps in sync across the gravelly path. Mulder placed his hand on the small of her back, and Scully had to fight tears forming in her eyes, clinging to her eyelashes.

He held the car door open for her, and as Scully turned to get in, she kissed him softly on the lips. His lips: the only lips she wanted to kiss for the rest of her life.

“I’m sorry, Scully,” he whispered into her hair, but she shook her head, refusing his apology.

“You didn’t do anything to be sorry for. Those bastards – you did what you had to do.”

“This isn’t any life for you…”

“I’ll manage,” Scully assured him, looking into his eyes. In this dim light they were chestnut in color, and deep as the sea. “We’ll figure it out.”

Mulder kissed her again, not for very long but more fervently this time, brushed her auburn hair off of her face with long fingers, and then waited until she was tucked into her seat before closing her door.

They got back on the road, Scully feeling rested and – for the first time in weeks – almost content. Her stomach had been in knots since she’d made the decision to place William for adoption, and although it still stung – would always sting – having Mulder in such close proximity was a gift she wasn’t sure she would ever receive. Scully was incredibly grateful just to have him there – alive – and to hear his breathing, his fingers tapping the steering wheel.

The rubber tires spun as they moved forward in the dark. Mulder watched the road, his eyes beginning to get heavy. Scully studied his profile, noticing his jaw twitching. His shoulders were tense now as he went deeper into his thoughts. She felt a rush of adoration through her chest and belly as she watched him, and scooted a little closer to him to rub his thigh.

“I’m so glad you came back to me,” Scully said. She had said it already, more than once, but every now and then it rolled over her like a wave. All of those lonely months, holding his shirt against her face until she fell asleep, praying for his safe return at the church two blocks from her apartment, imagining throwing herself into his arms when he returned… and now he was here, next to her. Mulder stroked the side of her face gently, eyes half on the road.

They had opened their windows to let the early morning breeze waft through the stale car and it was ruffling her hair and making her think of being on the ocean. Mulder smelled salty, too; two days’ worth of sweat and dust had gathered on both of them and now the rising heat outside was bringing a fresh sheen of perspiration around their temples and under their arms. Scully unbuttoned the top button of her blouse, letting the cooler air tickle her skin there; Mulder noticed, as always, in his periphery.

“Scully,” he whispered. It was more of a plea than an admonition, but if she didn’t know Mulder so well, she wouldn’t have been sure.

“I missed you so much,” she confessed, rubbing her hand up and down his thigh. His breathing deepened as his eyes seemed to lose focus, and after a moment, Mulder took her hand and held it still against him. “Hold that thought,” he said.

There was an exit up ahead, and they took it, the wind whipping through the open windows as Mulder made the quick turn. Scully shifted in her seat and continued to watch him intently: his square jaw, his intense eyes, his perfect shoulders. Her clothes suddenly felt too hot, too tight. She undid another button and fanned her blouse, letting in any cool air she could.

They passed farm after farm and continued down a winding country road, finally slowing as they approached an old, abandoned drive-in movie yard. Mulder pulled the car through the open gate and then over a little hill and into a secluded spot with the hill on one side and a fence on the other. He looked around for signs of life: none. He turned to Scully.

They undid their seat-belts and just looked at each other, taking each other in, for several long beats. Mulder shut off the engine. The quiet was staggering, except for their soft, panting breaths. Their mouths were only inches apart but they stayed where they were, locked in eye contact, reading one another.

Do you forgive me?

Yes, Mulder, I do.

Do you still want me, after all this loss?

I want you more than ever; I need you like water.

He moved quickly then, catching her lips against his in a passionate kiss. His hands came up to hold her face, keeping her hair away as he sucked and licked at her lips, roamed her mouth with his tongue, drank in her breath. Scully opened her mouth to him, welcoming him. Her hands moved against his tee shirt, feeling the strong, pulsing muscles of his chest and abdomen under the soft fabric.

She moaned into his kiss, tilted her head to open her mouth wider. Mulder’s tongue moved in deeper, creating a rhythmic pull against the back of her teeth. They both moaned, Scully shifting in her seat. The moisture between her legs had pooled and was beginning to make her panties wet; she had an unwelcome practical thought about how they were her only panties and she didn’t want them dirty. She pulled away.

“Let me get undressed,” she said breathlessly.

Mulder nodded, his eyes hungry. He moved his seat back and undid his own pants, pulling them down around his knees, all while watching Scully undress. He hadn’t seen her naked in many months and even then it had been helping her into a bath while she recovered from a traumatic child birth.

He didn’t know, through all their months apart, if she would want him again – in this particular way – when they reunited. He knew she loved him, and would always love him, but would the passion still remain?

Now she answered his questions with her wide blue eyes, gazing at him; her fingers, deftly undoing the buttons of her blouse; her shoulders, pale in the bleak dawn, shifting to allow her bra straps to fall.

“You’re so beautiful, Scully,” Mulder said hoarsely, and Scully blushed, but kept her gaze fixed on him. She had longed for him so desperately, now she didn’t want to miss a moment.

Scully kicked off her shoes and wriggled out of her pants and panties and let them fall unceremoniously to the car floor. She shifted her legs a little closer to Mulder. The outline of her skin seemed to reach out to him, begging to be touched. “Touch me, Mulder,” she said when he didn’t move fast enough.

Mulder’s right hand went to Scully’s hair, bunching it in his fist as he pulled her in for another deep kiss, while his left hand grazed her thigh. Her skin tingled at his touch, and without meaning to she moved even closer to him, until her knee was up against his. She broke their kiss to recline her seat as well, lining it up with his. Side by side, they looked at each other again. His hand continued along her thigh, caressing, seeking. Mulder shook his head a little, amazed at the woman before him; amazed that she loved him so unconditionally. Scully replied with a soft smile.

Always, she told him silently, brushing an imaginary lock of hair out of his eyes.

Mulder leaned toward her, his hand gripping the back of her leg and pulling it slightly over his as they kissed again. His slow, gentle tongue in and out of her mouth was making Scully shake all over. Her body felt on edge, like a quivering mass of nerve endings, highly sensitive to every touch from her lover. She couldn’t help reaching for him, moving her hand up and down his shaft. He felt so good in her hand, so strong and full of desire, that she moaned again.

“Scully, Scully, Dana,” he groaned, kissing her neck and shoulder, His nose moved her bra strap even further down her arm, and he kissed and licked his way back up to her jawline. She tossed her head back and whimpered.

And then his fingers – having been caressing the skin on her inner thigh for a few minutes – finally reached her center, and she couldn’t help but thrust her hips towards them as her body begged for his touch. He touched her and he loved her like no one else ever had. She had missed everything about him including this: his expert, graceful fingers that were eager to please her to no end.

When they were new lovers, she’d been overwhelmed with his ability to fulfill her desires. It wasn’t just that he was a caring and sensitive lover – which he was – it was also that the connection they had was so powerful. Sometimes, while making love in her big soft bed, they would stare into each other’s eyes, and she was sure she could feel not only her own pleasure, but his as well. Most surprisingly, after years of holding back, was finding out that Mulder nearly worshiped her. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and loved everything about her body, and told her so many times.

The cramped front seats of a car was not her comfortable bed, but his hands, his touch, the look on his face, flooded her with memories of happier times.She imagined the constant ache of loss drifting out of her body as her pleasure increased. Mulder understood; Mulder knew what she had been through; Mulder could help her heal with his hands and his lips.

He worked on her clit with small, pulsing circles until she was almost sobbing, and then with a brush of her hand against his he knew she needed more, and he leaned back. Scully smiled sweetly, took a deep breath, and climbed over the console, straddling Mulder. He helped her up, an expression of awe on his face. His mouth hung open, his eyes appeared soft and heavy, but his trembling hands betrayed him. He needed this as much as she did. He massaged her breasts through her bra and then leaned forward to kiss and suck her nipples through the lace.

“Take it off,” she said, and he reached around behind her and opened the bra so she could pull it all the way off and toss it to the floor.

Mulder sucked on each hard nipple in turn, causing Scully to moan and writhe above him. Her wet center moved against his hardness, sometimes in rhythm, sometimes not, creating beautiful friction between their damp bodies. The air was still without the car moving, and the sun was beginning to rise; both of their bodies were now shimmering with sweat. Mulder’s pupils were dark and full of longing as he watched Scully’s face, her breasts, her red hair tossing about as she moved. This was the first time in weeks, or maybe months, that he didn’t look at her as a martyr, or a victim; she was once again his vibrant, passionate Scully, thriving in his arms.

Somehow, they managed to continue kissing while Mulder eased on a condom, with wet lips grabbing and pulling at each other, and soft muffled moaning from deep in their throats. They had never discussed it, but Scully was grateful that he had taken charge of birth control. She took one more kiss of his lips before shifting her hips and guiding him into her. They both moaned in unison at the feeling of it. They stayed still for a moment, her forehead resting against his.

“I love you, Scully,” Mulder whispered, and Scully nodded in agreement. “Please say it,” he implored.

“I love you, too,” she told him softly, and he closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed with emotion. “So much,” she added with a choked sob.

All of the fear, all of the loneliness, all of the nights of sleeping alone on a cold prison floor seemed to melt away as the love of his life moved with him, gasping for air and occasionally leaving a wet kiss against his jaw or neck. All of the sorrow and uncertainty Scully had felt, caring for a new baby without even knowing Mulder’s whereabouts, faded away as the man she would die for raised his hips to pump into her again and again, grunting softly and watching her with complete adoration.

They locked eyes again. Mulder pressed harder into Scully’s hips with his strong hands, calloused now from his year on the run, and pulled her into him as he thrust up. His eyes told her he was coming soon, he was close. She leaned forward, into his body, creating more friction for herself, and felt her orgasm coiling in her inner muscles, wanting to burst free.

Desperately, almost forcefully, Mulder grabbed Scully’s jaw and held her face against his, his hot breath panting against her chin, and as she wrapped her arms around his neck she moved faster on him until she felt her muscles let go, contract around him, spreading like a thunderstorm of sensation through her womb and down into her thighs. She quivered in Mulder’s arms, letting out one mournful sob, and then relaxed against him.

Mulder held her as she rode out her climax, and then settling his hands on her hips, pumped roughly into her four more times before reaching his own peak, groaning loudly and closing his eyes. The feeling of Scully’s warm, welcoming body, her hands on the nape of his neck, her nipples grazing his chest, was better than anything he could have imagined, after more than a year of celibacy.

Their hearts were beating fast; Scully lay against Mulder, listening to the quick pace of his heart, memorizing it.

“Bom bom, bom bom, bom bom,” she mimicked his beat with a sleepy half-smile.

Mulder ran his hands up and down her bare back, damp with sweat, and kissed her forehead.

“You’re everything to me,” he muttered into her hairline.

“That’s good,” Scully said into his shoulder. “I’m all you’ve got.”

He looked down at her, seriously enough that she pulled back to study his face. His expression was loving, but concerned. He was analyzing her, stroking her cheek with one hand while the other tickled her tailbone.

As Mulder slipped out of her, Scully moved awkwardly back to her seat, shimmying back into her pants. She was a mess now, but no longer worried about it. Soon she would drive so Mulder could sleep, and tonight they would have to find a motel where they could bathe and wash their clothes.

Maybe if they were lucky, they would even come across a quiet little thrift shop and buy a few more pieces of clothing. And they would need a drugstore for toiletries. Scully wondered if a thrift store might carry wigs, or if she should dye her hair. And they would need real food at some point; Scully suddenly wanted a hamburger so badly she could taste it.

Mulder had hiked his pants back up and now smoothed his hands over his shirt, dirty and wrinkled as it was. He gave Scully a humble smile. “Good?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m good. Get us to the main road,” Scully said contentedly, “and then I’ll drive for the morning. You need some sleep.”

“Yes, dear,” he said cheekily. He gave her a sideways grin.

The car moved quietly across the grass and back over the hill, through the old eroding gates of the drive-in, and onto the road. As they headed north the sun rose, changing the light of the landscape. For the first time in weeks, Scully noticed birds flying overhead and the gentle swaying of grass. The renewed breeze moved against her blouse as she buttoned it, drying the sweat on her skin and cooling her into comfort. She ran her hands through her tousled hair.

There was a farm house, way down a long country driveway, that she could see in the distance. It was pretty, in this light, with a wrap-around porch and the first glimmer of the sun reflecting off of the front windows. Scully leaned her head back against the seat and watched it as they drew closer. Someone inside was turning on lights, probably getting breakfast ready. A large, colorful flower garden decorated the front walkway, with a pebbled path leading to the front steps.

“You want a house like that?” Mulder asked her, tapping her arm.

She arched her eyebrow at him. “Maybe someday, Mulder. Right now I’d really just like a toothbrush.”

Mulder chuckled.

Her love for him pushed against her ribcage from inside like a balloon waiting to burst. And something fainter stirred far underneath it, though it had been pressed down little by little over time: a flutter of hope. It felt like sugar on her tongue, and like a sweet tea going down into her belly. She relaxed against her seat again. “We will have hope,” she resolved to Mulder, and to herself, out loud. “We will be okay. And we will keep fighting.”

“I’m not there, yet, Scully,” Mulder admitted, “but I’m glad you are.”

His thumb rubbed in lazy circles over the side of her hand. The road turned sharply and then opened up again. They came towards another house, tall and looming against the grey-blue sky. A family must live there: there was a swing set and a child’s bicycle in the side yard. A dog house tucked in near the fence; a big tree with a tire swing.

Scully thought she could see a little boy, about five, running toward the swing set and leaping, belly first, onto a swing. She thought he must be laughing as he careened back and forth, feeling like he was taking flight. She thought she saw a mass of strawberry-blonde hair; she thought he must look like William would, at that age: happy, healthy, and free.

Or it might have just been the sunrise, lifting over the open plain.

THE END

______________________________________

Maybe there’s hope. – Fox Mulder, The Truth Part 2 (9x20)

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on Tumblr in response to @leiascully's writing challenge "Resolution". It was the first fanfic I'd ever written, and the first fiction I'd written in many years. Gosh, but Mulder and Scully are a pleasure to write.
> 
> Many, many thanks to the amazing @kateyes224 (on Tumblr) for a late-night beta and help with the title!


End file.
